Segerstrom Hall has never seen anything quite like Alice Cooper. The closest thing, maybe, was The Addams Family musical that came through last year.

The 65-year-old rock legend and his mighty band of youthful players put on a full-fledged horror show Tuesday night in Costa Mesa, complete with a giant Frankenstein’s monster, bloody doll parts strewn about the stage, severed heads mounted on amps, the star’s ever-popular guillotine routine and, of course, all of Cooper’s signature snarling and taunting.

The gorgeous venue, normally reserved for operas and Broadway productions, was crawling with generations of diehard Alice fans, from teenagers sporting his blacked-out eye makeup to couples well into their 60s who easily could have slipped into the neighboring performance of Verdi’s Falstaff, happening across the plaza at the Renée and Henry Segerstrom Concert Hall.

It also may be the first time this squeaky-clean place has reeked of skunk weed, as numerous patrons managed to light up and get high throughout the show. I doubt that will happen when Evita plays here next month.

Cooper didn’t hold anything back here, bringing a much louder and more outrageous experience than the prestigious room ever hosts. He strolled out in standard fashion in a red-and-black striped get-up, growling “Hello Hooray” to kick off the set and positioning himself in front of a bright curtain of pyrotechnics.

There were moments of crowd-engaging excess, as when Cooper teased the first few rows with a giant stack of fake money that he ran through with a sword, as he often does during “Billion Dollar Babies.” He shook the sword over the audience’s heads, sending paper flying as fans jumped and reached for the bills as they fell to the floor. People in the orchestra section remained on their feet with hands often up throughout the 90-minute set, in fact; at one point, during “Dirty Diamonds,” they pleaded with the singer to toss out more fake jewel necklaces.

Considering how theatrical his productions are, everyone in his band has developed seasoned showmanship. Cooper incorporates his players into wild scenarios, like grabbing at guitar virtuoso Orianthi’s pretty face during their back-and-forth battle on “I’ll Bite Your Face Off” or playfully cracking a whip at other players – guitarists Ryan Roxie and Tommy Henriksen, bassist Chuck Garric and drummer Glen Sobel – during “Go to Hell.” Cooper is smart to surround himself with such talent; it frees him up to improvise more.

The only real downside was the sound mix, blaring to the point that it became muffled and at times difficult to discern specific instruments – the bass, for instance, was hardly audible, expect during solos. That issue also took some gusto away from Sobel, a powerhouse who spun his sticks and beat the life out of his kit.

The real treat, however, was Orianthi, the 28-year-old Australian who makes shredding appear effortless. She stood out in her dark outfit with long black coat and hat, blood dripping from the side of her mouth as she confidently cruised to the front of the stage, threw her head back and wailed on her sanguine-splattered guitar.

Presenting the show in thirds, Cooper started with what he dubs the “Glam Alice” portion, filled with cuts like “House of Fire,” “No More Mr. Nice Guy,” “Under My Wheels” and “Hey Stoopid.” But things took a turn for the sinister in the next segment, kicked off with “Welcome to My Nightmare” and followed by “Go to Hell” and “He’s Back (The Man Behind the Mask).”

“Feed My Frankenstein” found him dressed as Dr. Frankenstein in a bloodied lab coat, his minions strapping him to a giant table soon engulfed by thick fog. When it spewed out giant sparks and the fog cleared, an enormous Frankenstein monster appeared to deliver the rest of the song. After that, for “Ballad of Dwight Fry,” Cooper was put into a straitjacket and injected by large hypodermic needles courtesy of a demented nurse, played by his wife, Sheryl. Slipping in and out of madness, his character is eventually sent to the guillotine, a moment that had the entire crowd cheering and chanting “kill him!”

When Cooper “awoke,” he emerged amid a graveyard of Hollywood Vampires, where he performed a medley of songs in honor of all of his “dead drunk friends,” former real-life buddies from the turn of the ’70s, including Jim Morrison, Keith Moon, John Lennon and Jimi Hendrix. The cover choices were over-the-top cheesy yet also a fun homage to the legacy of these fallen musicians.

Cooper channeled Morrison for the Doors’ “Break on Through (To the Other Side)” and playfully paid tribute to Lennon by sporting his signature rounded sunglasses, throwing up the peace sign during the Beatles’ “Revolution.” He honored Moon with the Who’s “My Generation” and Orianthi took center stage for Hendrix’s “Foxy Lady,” doing justice to the well-known, oft-imitated riff.

Wrapping up the third act, the headliner powerfully delivered on of his earliest breakthroughs, “I’m Eighteen,” belting it with conviction despite being more than three times older than that. The audience roared along to his ’80s hit “Poison” and partied up through the glitter and confetti of the encore, “School’s Out,” peppered with a bit of Pink Floyd’s “Another Brick in the Wall.”

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